


A Varia Vetting

by rei_c



Series: Stiles Stilinski: Vongola Sky [2]
Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!, Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Claudia Stilinski's Background, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Gen, Sky Stiles Stilinski
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-08
Updated: 2018-10-08
Packaged: 2019-07-28 05:21:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16234997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rei_c/pseuds/rei_c
Summary: Three weeks after unlocking his flame, Stiles comes home from school and finds out that things arereallygoing to change.





	A Varia Vetting

**Author's Note:**

> So this is a series now or something.

Stiles pulls into his driveway, parks and turns off the Jeep, and sits there, stares at his front door. His Hyper Intuition has been squawking all day and now that he's home, it's gone absolutely fucking apeshit. It's only done this once before and if Stiles had only listened then -- 

He gets out, goes up to the door, opens it and steps inside, closes it behind him. "Hey," he says. 

Xanxus of the Varia stands there, watching him, hip against the wall and his arms crossed. "Mieczysław," he says, nodding. Some of his braids fall forward, over his shoulder. Stiles tilts his head, watches them until they settle then moves his eyes back to Xanxus. "You knew I was here but you came in alone and unarmed. The Ninth shouldn't be so worried about you." 

"If the Ninth was worried, I'd already be dead," Stiles says, "and you wouldn't be -- leaning? That looks like a lean; is that a lean?" Xanxus holds Stiles' gaze, finally cracks his lips just enough to show off his teeth. All the tension in Stiles' body immediately disappears. "Oh, thank god," Stiles says. He kicks off his shoes and drops his backpack, leads Xanxus through to the dining room and the small table, still covered in papers from his dad's latest case. Xanxus sits as Stiles clears off the table, grabs them water, finally plops into the seat across from Xanxus. "So if you're not here to kill me, _why_ are you here? I'm sure the head of the Varia has better things to do."

"I'm here on a bit of a fact-finding mission," Xanxus says. At Stiles' look, he laughs, says, "Yes, the Varia does that, as well." 

Stiles grimaces, looks down at his water. "So the Ninth sent you?" 

Xanxus nods, says, "Wants to know how involved you plan on being. Vongola skies aren't exactly growing on trees these days so the introduction of a new one, especially at your age and with your bloodline, means the Ninth needs to know how much trouble you're going to cause." 

"I have no interest in getting involved," Stiles says. "Or causing trouble. You can tell the Ninth that I'm happy being a Stilinski, more than happy. Whoever the prospective Decimo is has no reason to be worried about me and I'll swear that in whichever way he or she wants, short of sealing away my flame." 

"No interest whatsoever," Xanxus says, half a question. 

Stiles shakes his head, says, "I've got enough shit to deal with around here." 

Xanxus holds Stiles' gaze, eventually nods lightly a couple times even as his eyes narrow. "Only it turns out," Xanxus says, "that when the Ninth's choice of heir heard there was another option? A _better_ option --" 

" _Better_ option? Seriously, how am I a better option? My mother gave up her name! I have no claim to the famiglia." 

"-- he was quite pleased," Xanxus says, ignoring Stiles' interruption. "He's never wanted to be Vongola, much less its head. In the spirit of full disclosure, Mieczysław, _you_ were raised with more knowledge of the Vongola than he was." 

Stiles blinks. "What," he says. He can feel the sky inside of him start to build, knows that his eyes have changed colour and the air coming off of his body is warped and hazy with heat. "Are you saying they want to put a complete civilian in charge of the family."

Xanxus' smile is sharp-toothed. "To be fair, he's learned quickly," Xanxus says, "and he has a full complement of guardians. But the Ninth put Reborn in charge of his --" 

Stiles stands up at the exact moment flames burst into being around him, slams a hand down on the table and burns his palmprint into the wood as the water in their glasses instantly evaporates. "The Ninth charged the education of _his heir_ to one of the Arcobaleno?" he asks, knows his tone dropped into a register promising death. "Has he been using Dying Will bullets on our heir, Xanxus?" 

"You see why the Decimo-elect would be willing to hand over his position, then," Xanxus says, unperturbed by both the fire and Stiles' tone. "He has promise, I'll give him that, and his guardians are nothing to laugh at, but you at least came by your flame naturally. Plus," Xanxus adds, leaning back in his chair, dark eyes momentarily flaring crimson, "he wants nothing to do with us. He's made his opinion very clear, multiple times, to anyone who'll listen. To him, the mafia's a cesspit of the worst kind of people and he'd happily end every iteration across the world if he could." 

Stiles' anger starts to die down at the look in Xanxus' eyes. "He knows we keep the underworld in line, right? Things without us would be so much worse." 

Xanxus raises an eyebrow. "We? Us?" 

Stiles pats out the few flames on his chair, wipes away the ash, sits down heavily. "Well, shit," he says. 

The room goes silent for a long while. Xanxus seems content to watch Stiles as Stiles -- Stiles is just trying to figure out how this is going to work. He can't leave Beacon Hills -- can't leave Scott, who would probably get himself killed a hundred times over the day Stiles goes, or his dad, who'd go back on his diet and have a heart attack within six months, or even the pack, though he doesn't really think they'd miss him. He has to meet with the Ninth, though, and he'd like to talk to the other heir, get his opinion, see if Xanxus is telling the full truth. He'll need to be brought up to speed on so much -- history and current treaties and the capabilities of his family and their expectations for him -- not to mention train his own flames and mom said the Varia had standards -- if he expects them to follow him, he'll need to exceed whatever they can do -- and -- 

"I'd need guardians," Stiles says. He's leaning forward, elbows on the table, and he looks at his hands, at the thin, knobby-knuckled length of them. "I don't have any here." 

"Your sky's been active for three weeks," Xanxus says, and even though his tone's even, Stiles knows, just _knows_ , that he's full of disbelief, "and you haven't bonded with _anyone_?" 

Stiles exhales deep and sharp. "I could've," he admits. "I could. There are compatible people here. I just --" 

He trails off, shrugging, and Xanxus says, "You don't trust them. Mieczysław. Is there anyone here you'd willingly bond with? To stabilise you, if nothing else?"

Stiles thinks of Scott, who ditched him the first time a pretty girl came along, of Lydia, who ignored him until she started losing her mind, of Derek, who will probably never trust anyone ever again. Isaac's never liked him, rumour has it that Jackson's parents are moving and taking Jackson with him, and he won't take Erica or Boyd away from Derek. 

Then there's Peter. Peter -- Peter is a possibility, Stiles is honest enough to admit that to himself, a _strong_ possibility. There's the issue of trust, though, from both sides, and the odds of Peter being willing to extend that amount of trust to Stiles is negligible at best. 

"One potential," Stiles says, "but only in an emergency." 

Xanxus looks honestly sad about that. "Claudia would've killed us for letting it get to this," he says. Stiles' attention focuses, sharp and fast, and Xanxus shifts on his chair, stretches out his legs, laces his fingers together on top of his belly. "She called me cousin," Xanxus says. "Stayed with the Varia during the summers, trained with us. We grew up together -- or, rather, she grew up and I hung on her coattails. She's the one who introduced me to my sun. When she left, I went a little mad." 

"Is that when you got the scars?" Stiles asks, gesturing at his face and arms. "Mom never mentioned the scars. She -- she told me a lot that she probably shouldn't've, but she never mentioned the scars." 

"A gift from the Ninth," Xanxus says, in the type of voice where Stiles knows that Xanxus won't say more. "You don't want to come to Italy," Xanxus goes on, changing the subject. "You don't seem like you want to, anyway. But if you don't have potentials here, if there's no one worth your time, why do you want to stay?" 

Stiles leans back, takes a deep breath, asks, "What do you know about werewolves?" 

Xanxus' eyes flood red. "There's a pack here that you feel indebted to, Mieczysław, but they wouldn't be willing to offer up a guardian? They've tied you to them without offering a tie in return, is that it?" 

"Not exactly," Stiles says. "It's complicated." 

"Tell me." 

\--

Xanxus is rubbing his temples by the time Stiles has him caught up on the last few months. 

"Complicated, you said," Xanxus mutters. " _Che due coglioni_. That's not complicated, that's _insane_."

"Yeah, well," Stiles says, "it also unlocked my sky and gave the family a potential Decimo who won't dismantle the Vongola either on purpose or by accidental incompetence the first year he ascends. Oh, wait, hold on," Stiles says, as something occurs to him. "Do we do business with the Argents?" 

Xanxus looks up, gives Stiles a reptilian smile full of hunger. "Not anymore, we don't," he says. "Want to take out a hit on any of them? I'll tell Mammon to give you the family rate." 

"Thirty pieces of silver?" Stiles guesses, returning Xanxus' smile with one of his own. "Would saying 'all of them' be too greedy?" 

"Maybe," Xanxus allows, "but understandable. I'll tell Squalo to process the paperwork." There's a pause before Xanxus says, "We can get someone on staff at the sheriff's office to keep an eye on your father. A mist, most likely, with an impenetrable background and impeccable references. As a deputy, they can also approach Melissa McCall without raising too much suspicion. Scott has a pack if he's ever willing to unbend enough to recognise it; he doesn't deserve you as well. Let him sink or swim without you." 

There's a tug in Stiles' chest that absolutely wants to rage against that but -- Xanxus is right, after all. Scott's proven how much their friendship means to him, there's no reason why Stiles alone should keep it going. It just -- it just _hurts_ , thinking about throwing it all away after all this time and effort. It feels like such a waste. 

"I want to talk to the other heir," Stiles says. "And I want to finish the school year; there's only another week."

"And then you'll come to Italy," Xanxus says. "Reclaim the name your mother ran from." 

Stiles takes a deep breath, exhales long and slow. "Yeah," he says. "I'll be a Vongola and I agree to -- if the other heir means it and the Ninth allows it, I'll take the title." He looks at Xanxus, says, "I'll find guardians, and go through training, and become the presumptive Decimo." 

Xanxus' lips quirk upwards and he dips his chin, says, "Thank you, Mieczysław."

"Cousin," Stiles says. Xanxus' brows furrow and Stiles says, "Call me cousin. It's what mom would have wanted." 

"Cousin, then," Xanxus says. This time, the incline is a little deeper. 

Stiles feels something inside of him crack apart.


End file.
